Demockcrackcy Poem by Sandra Feldman
Demockcrackcy
You think,
You're vote, really does count,
You root for this One, publicized,
You know, the One that has no pride,
But always, very much to hide,
'Politicos' they are astute,
They always know which horn to toot,
Behind closed doors, amongst themselves,
They plan the voting, empty shelves,
Then cakes are sliced for future dates,
While we watch on, behind Hell's gates.
even though, I don't know why? , I kept thinking of the Iron Curtain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 3:11:45 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The system and the establishment sicken me. Most people don't have any idea just how far gone, corrupt and removed from sanity it is.